You were twelve and at your teachers house celebrating the end of elementary school, borrowed her bike only to find there were no brakes. At the bottom of the steep driveway, a ditch. Lying on you back. Not feeling anything but what you think is a bloody nose only to learn later it was spinal fluid. This memoir by the poet Paul Guest was recalled with today's #90sInJuly prompt, #WhereIsMyMind
Robothugs Wow. Adding this to my TBR. 7y
Lmstraubie Wow... 7y
Cinfhen Echoing the wows!!! 7y